Anything You Want
by Kagenoyuushi
Summary: Skwisgaar sees a solution for getting Toki out of his hair... too bad it quickly spirals out of his control. Before anything can be sorted out, however, Toki is taken away by the Revengencers. How will Skwisgaar cope without him?
1. Anything you want, Toki

Toki Wartooth had it bad. His man-crush-slash-rivalry-slash-vague-comp

etition-for-best-guitarist-in-the-word had, unknown to him, transformed into something akin to the most unmetal of all emotions. Love. Blech. But, as much as the idea should have repulsed him for being the most lame thing on earth, he couldn't help embracing it just a little. It meant stolen glances at rehearsals, getting into fights just for the contact of Skwisgaar's skin on his skin, hands tangled in his hair, both their hearts racing after. It was the closest thing to sex he was going to get. It was almost enough.

Skwisgaar was perfectly aware of Toki's feelings. He would often tease him with a lingering touch on the shoulder when explaining something, or a brush against his leg when they sat together. It was fun to watch the younger man squirm a little in his chair. He had no intention of it going beyond that, unless it would benefit him in some way. Little did he know that opportunity would come up sooner rather than later.

They were backstage before a concert when it happened. Toki, as usual, begged for a solo. Skwisgaar had so many during shows, why couldn't he give up one?

"Please! Comes on Skwisgaar! I gives you anysthing you wants! I's gives you all my models planes! I never complains abouts nots getting desserts for a weeks!" (a big deal coming from Toki) "I still sucks you cock!"

"Toki," Skwisgaar explained, as though talking to a mentally challenged five year old, "you don'ts practice. You messes up abouts thirty precents of de time. No."

Toki looked crushed, as usual when denied what he wanted. Sometimes he threw a tantrum, but not tonight, thank gods. This was getting old. Years, YEARS of listening to this. Then, Skwisgaar got an idea, he got an awful, wonderful idea. He even couldn't stop the smirk spreading across his lips. This was too perfect.

"Listens, talks to me after de shows, in mine room on da bus. I tinks we can talks it out, ja?"

Toki brightened. "Okays!"

"Yous playing ams still dildos." Toki always played better when he was a little pissed and trying to show Skwisgaar up.

"Whats does you want me to gives you to gets one solo?" Toki had barely shut the door before the question spilled from him like a bursting dam.

"It amst what I wants. It's whats you wants."

"What's you mean?"

"If I gives you someting you really, really wants, maysbe we cans not haves more talks of dis solos again?" Manipulating Toki was too easy. Had Skwisgaar much of a conscience, he'd feel a bit bad.

"Whats does I want dat badlies?" Toki scoffed, but his expression changed when the Swede slinked toward him with his lithe frame, towering over him, too close. Why was he so close? Toki damned himself for the blush spreading across his cheeks and nose.

"Mes," Skwisgaar purred it in a husky voice, slipping a finger into the top of Toki's jeans and pulling him closer. Their faces were inches apart.

Toki stammered a little in response, but it amounted to nothing comprehensible.

"I sees the way you looks at me. I knows why you am always starting fights. You just wants to touch me," his voice was so sultry, so velvety, so dirty, Toki was afraid that if he continued to speak, he'd throw himself desperately at Skwisgaar, earning a punch to the face and weeks, maybe months of mockery.

"Uh… I don't s know what you ams..."

"Don'ts plays dat game with me, little Toki," and then Skwisgaar's lips were on his, so light a touch that Toki barely felt them at all. The touch was enough to make him squeak somewhere in his throat. Was this really happening? Skwisgaar broke the kiss slowly, returning to the inches from Toki's face he'd been moments ago. "If I gives you whats you want, _everythings_you want, for ones night, you will nevers asks for a solo agains. Tinks about it, little Toki. Opporstunities knocks, but they don't knocks more den once." With that, Skwisgaar released Toki and walked in his bathroom to wash his corpse paint off. Toki stood there, stunned, for several minutes. When he realized Skwisgaar wasn't coming back until he left, he quietly slipped out the door and ran for his own room.

Toki got little sleep the night before. It felt bizarrely wrong to jack off after  
the conversation with Skwisgaar, so he waited, painfully, for an hour before his arousal abated. After that, he spent hours thinking about the proposition. Did he want a solo that badly? Badly enough to give up a night with the one person he'd ever really loved? He'd promised anything Toki wanted for one night. Toki could hear him say that he loved him, if only once in forever. Skwisgaar would kiss him and hold him. It was too much to think about. So Toki pushed it from his mind and fell into a fitful sleep.  
The morning was grey when they arrived back and Mordhaus. Skwisgaar had spent the morning in his room and when he emerged to go inside, he didn't so much as look at Toki. There was a vague discomfort somewhere in Toki's stomach and the first thing he did when going inside was head for the liquor cabinet, which was more like a walk-in liquor closet. He grabbed some vodka, sat the circular saw table and began to drink. At some point Pickles and Nathan showed up, mistook the self-medicating drinking for celebratory drinking and downed a few shots with Toki. He remained, nursing a second bottle after they'd gone and realized, halfway into it, that he'd been sitting in the kitchen all day. It was now eleven in the evening and he still had no idea what to do.  
Skwisgaar had spent about an hour standing in the shadows, just beyond the doorway, earlier in the evening and had begun to develop a sick kind of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He had meant it to be an easy decision for Toki, a spur of the moment, break-neck choice, driven by arousal. He didn't think Toki would stew over it for so long. He remembered after the death of Toki's father how he'd further damaged himself, physically and otherwise, as he downed bottle after bottle of alcohol to numb his pain. He considered rescinding his offer, but he thought that it might make things worse. After watching for as long as he could take, he retired to his room to lie in bed and feel badly, alone.

Around two in the morning, there was a barely audible knock at his door. He didn't need to think about it as he called softly, "comes in, Toki."

"I toughts about it." Toki didn't even move from the doorway once he swung it open. The other band members were asleep or passed out, so there was no danger in staying put and having the conversation across the room.

"Ands?" Skwisgaar didn't show any of the guilt he'd been feeling earlier.

"I wants to does it," Toki looked down, ashamed, disguised with his own decision. Skwisgaar was close to breaking, telling Toki to forget it.

Instead, what came out of his mouth surprised him. "Tomorrows night. Comes back tomorrows night, earlies, rights after dinner."

Toki nodded and walked away.

Skwisgaar had fucked up real bad this time.

He offered plenty of chances for Toki to change his mind the next day. "You ams gettings a little less dildos," he commented after rehearsal, hoping Toki would return to asking for solos. "I'ms pretty sleepy, thinks I'll turns in a littles early tonights." "Goes play with you's model planes, Toki, you dildos!" Toki seemed to ignore him, or chose not to say anything, Skwisgaar wasn't sure which. Sure enough, at seven oclock, as he was noodling around on his guitar, Toki opened the door a crack.

"I'ms here," he whispered, coming in timidly and standing a foot from the closed door, hunched a little, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

"I cans sees dat. Comes over heres." Skwisgaar had been dreading this encounter for the past two hours. It dawned on him that Toki might want to get a blow job from him, or worse, top him. The thought made him shudder. Toki finally unfroze and walked slowly over to the bed. "I sees you decideds. Skwisgaar reached for Toki's pant's button. Toki caught his hands midair and held them there, forcing the blond to look up at him questioningly.

"You saids you gives me anythings I want, rights?"

Oh gods, it was going to be some weird kinky thing. Skwisgaar felt himself pale.

"Ja…" he said cautiously.

Toki crouched down in front of him, making eye contact a little easier. "I wants…" He was nearly petrified, his voice was tight, he was trembling. This couldn't be good.

"Yes, little Toki?" Skwisgaar said, almost kindly. Damn. He couldn't start to feel sympathy. Toki had chosen this.

"I wants…"

"Toki, spits it out." The lead guitarist was losing not only his patience, but also his nerve. Toki's apprehension was putting him on edge, too.

"I wants to cuddle and kiss! Dat's all!" Toki blurted out, unable to look Skwisgaar in the eye after requesting something so very, very gay.

Skwisgaar was speechless for a moment. That was it? Toki had been so obviously turned on last night, and all he wanted was to cuddle!? After the initial shock wore of, Skwisgaar felt a pang of relief. No blowjobs, no prepping for anal sex; this was going to be a walk in the park.

Toki took off his shirt. Okay, so, he wanted some skin to skin contact. That was fine. Skwisgaar mirrored the gesture and patted the bed next to him, indicating his younger bandmate to join him. Toki complied. The two sat in awkward silence for a few moments.

"So… ams you gonna, or ams I…?"

"I's never dones this before," Toki explained. He looked near panic when he spoke now.

"Yous never makes out before? Dats is a lie, Toki!" Skwisgaar almost laughed.

"Nots wid…"

"Ohhh!" Skwisgaar did laugh at this. "It amst different than makings out wid a goil."

"Okays," Toki agreed but sounded dubious.

There was another pause. Okay, clearly Skwisgaar would have to start things. If it didn't progress beyond the two sitting with their shirts off, Toki would be begging for solos again in a week. He turned Toki's head toward him, holding it still as he leaned in. Before his lips met the brunette's, he tucked the hair fallen in his face behind his ear. As he was grateful Toki was letting him off easily, he decided to be magnanimous and go full-out-romantic. Even if it was unmetal. The kissing wasn't bad, though it didn't do much for Skwisgaar. It felt vaguely incestuous. But, he persevered. Eventually, he leaned Toki back on the bed and pulled him closer by the hips. Toki had relaxed a little and was letting his hands roam over Skwisgaaar's back and chest as he kissed. Lying in bed and kissing, that was a slightly different story for Skwisgaar. Toki's kissing technique had seemed to improve a hundredfold and as much as he was loathe to admit it, even to himself, he was kind of getting into it. But Toki never ventured south of the waistband of his pants. Skwisgaar took his lead from the rhythm guitarist, almost chuckling at the irony that Toki was the one in charge tonight. Really, he was getting both of his desires; but the brunette probably wouldn't realize that.

The longer they kissed, the longer it became apparent that something more important than playing guitar or having sex was happening. At first, it was a minor realization in the back of his mind, but it slowly crept over his thoughts, nagging at him. The kisses were slow, the touching was warm, gentle. There was no intense passion driving it; just the desire to hold on to the Swede and keep him close for as long as possible. This scared Skwisgaar. Toki wasn't here for anything more than physical closeness, which he was now mistaking for emotional intimacy. That's when Skwisgaar began to panic. He pushed Toki far enough away to speak.

"Toki, I can'ts lets you think dat dis means somethingk more den what its is."

Toki looked confused. And then crushed. This expression was worse than any expression Skwisgaar had ever seen and he felt his stomach drop.

"Why does you gots to do that, Skwisgaar? You saids you gives me anythings I wants, for one night!" Toki's eyes shimmered with the tears that were fighting to escape.

"Because then it hurts dats much more tomorrows and de next days and the next days. It amst gonna change nothings between us. It doesn'ts means I don't cares. It means dat I don'ts wants you to tink it means dats somethings ams going to happen."

Toki sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He felt sick.

"I don'ts feels so good. I'ms goings to beds." Skwisgaar grabbed his wrist as he reached for his shirt on the floor.

"Toki."

"I just wants to go, please."

"Toki…"

"Please, Skwisgaar, if you cares abouts me, den lets me go." The words hit like a bullet to the chest. Toki meant so many things more than to remove his hand from his wrist. Skwisgaar understood now the pain that Toki must have been feeling for the past… he had no idea how long. If he did care, he had to let Toki go. In all regards. But, he reflected for an instant, he didn't want to. 'If you love someone, do what's best for them,' rang in his mind. His grandmother had told him this once when he was a child.

"Please, stays."

Toki turned and Skwisgaar moved closer and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Stays, at leasts for tonight," he whispered, no shrouded lust, no hidden meanings. He didn't want a bedmate, that much was clear to Toki. Toki wasn't sure, then, exactly what Skwisgaar did want. But, he complied, unsure why. The two lay in silence and though it was strained, Skwisgaar spooned against Toki and held on like he would sink into some unseen abyss if he did not.


	2. What Toki wants

The morning was silent, as usual for Mordhaus. The others wouldn't be stirring for several more hours and Toki was used to being awake by the time the sun rose. It was out of habit more than anything; back home if he slept past sunrise, he'd earn a lashing and a new scar on his back. Skwisgaar's arm was draped over his torso in a vaguely possessive way, but his body no longer clung, shoulders to feet as it had last night when the two had fallen asleep. Toki lay next to the blond for several minutes, listening to his slow, quiet breathing, trying to match his own with the sounds. The lump in his throat from last night had not gone away and was making it hard to swallow now. This would be the only and last time he found himself in Skwisgaar's bed, and there was no joy in either that thought or lying here next to the person he had sought after for so long.

Deciding that lying here would only make him feel more miserable than he already did, Toki gingerly removed Skwisgaar's arm from on top of him and slipped out from under the covers. His boots had been left on in the strangeness of last night, so there was no scrambling for any items that could be left behind, and he quickly and quietly exited, the door creaking only the slightest on its hinges. Shutting the door was a symbolic as well as physical gesture for Toki. He couldn't live like this anymore; the torture of waiting and hoping that Skwisgaar would see him in a different light than the stupid, crybaby rhythm guitarist that he occasionally had to supervise when drunk and had to constantly tell that his playing had to be over. His heart was tired of the tiny cracks, each new one threatening to damage it beyond repair. Lately, any time Skwisgaar had brought ladies into his room, the cracks spread.

Toki didn't come out of his room the rest of that day. Or the next. He didn't order any meals, there was no noises that issued forth from under the door, the halls were quiet. Nathan and Pickles, who shared a hallway with the little goofball, were somewhat grateful. Usually his escapades woke them both into terrible hangovers. By the third day, though, Pickles, Nathan and even Murderface began to express concern in their own way.

"It ain't like him ta be alone so much."

"It's too quiet; I can't concentrate on writing lyrics without some noise."

"He'sch trying to make usch all worry about him, that asschole! Trying to get attentchion. What a crybaby!"

Skwisgaar was oddly silent on the subject, but he plucked the strings of his Gibson a little faster when the conversation turned to the little Norwegian.

When Toki did finally emerge, he was met with the same casual indifference that usually accompanied his arrival into the dining room. Though Pickles did seem to glance at him more than usual, when he thought no one was paying attention. Toki downed three or four helpings worth of dinner and didn't say much. After he ate, he retired to his room again. The entire time he'd been out, he'd only looked at Skwisgaar once. His eyes were impassive, which was unsettling because Toki's expression toward the blond, whether angry or worshipful, was never neutral.

"What did you do to him this time, Skwisgaar?" Nathan admonished.

"What's you mean?"

"He's never naht said somethin' to ya. I mean never," Pickles interjected.

Skwisgaar shrugged.

In the safety of his room, Toki released the pent up anger and frustration he felt from just locking eyes with the Swede once. He punched the wall twice before he felt a painful cracking sensation in his hand and cried out. "Fucks!" When he examined it more closely, he found that trying to open the fist was excruciating. Not knowing what else to do, he used his good hand to open the door and wander out into the hallway. He found Nathan in the big room, watching TV. Thank Odin he was alone.

"Uh, Nathans?"

"Toki, what's the matter with your hand?"

"I, uh, I fells," he replied lamely. Nathan snorted at the obvious lie.

"Really. What'd you fall on?"

"Um… I fells on my model planes. I landeds hand foist on dem."

"Toki, you're a really terrible liar."

"Who ams a terrible whats?" Skwisgaar asked, wanting to be privy to the conversation. That was, until he actually walked into the room and saw Toki standing next to Nathan. He noticed Toki cradling his fist, his arm shaking from the effort to hold the pain in. "Toki, what's happsens to yous hand?" There was a mixture of genuine concern and exasperation.

"I fells," Toki would not meet his eyes, but did look in his general direction.

"You gots to goes to de medicals place. If you's hand is hurts, you gots to gets helps for it. You can'ts play with a hurts hand."

"I don'ts remember where dat is." The medical wing was in one of the winding corridors of Mordhaus, but the boys had usually found it by following the Robot.

"Pffft." Skwisgaar sighed in accompaniment to his usual derisive sound.

"Maybe we should, you know, get Charles."

"Nots necessary. I remembers where it ams. I'lls take Toki dere, like I always gots to take cares of him."

"I'll go finds Ofdensens." Toki walked past Skwisgaar toward the manager's office. Nathan returned to his notepad, trying to rhyme "beheaded" with something.

Skwisgaar felt only the slightest twinge of uncomfortable guilt at what had just transpired.


	3. A free show

Toki's third and fourth proximal phalanxes were broken. He wouldn't be able to play for at least six weeks, possibly longer if he didn't take it easy and not use his hand at all. Unfortunately for him, it was his right hand. So he relied on his band mates to help him with simple tasks. Most of the time he asked Pickles or Nathan for help in buttoning his pants or grabbing and opening a beer for him, sometimes Murderface, but never Skwisgaar. The Swede pretended not to notice the snubbing from his Scandinavian counterpart, but it caused a vague sense of irritation somewhere in his brain.

Toki showed up in Pickle's room late one night, unable to sleep, bored and sick of not being able to use his hand to so much as steady models to work on them with his left. As a result, he was in a foul mood and needed someone to be nice to him, at least for a little while, before the drummer passed out.

"Hey Tokiiiiii," Pickles was already a little drunk when Toki found him, playing Angry Birds on his laptop.

"Hi Pickle."

"What's 'a matter?"

"I can'ts do nothin' wit this stupids dildo brokesen hand."

"Well, why'd ya haveta go and breyk it fer?"

"I tolds Nathan, it was an axel-dent."

"And nobahdy believes dat."

"… I punches a wall."

"Why?"

"… I don'ts want to talks about it."

"Why'd ya bring up yer hand if ya don't wanna talk about it?" When Toki didn't answer right away, Pickles pressed further, "if ya don't wanna tell me why ya hurt yer hand, ya might as well go back in yer room."

"Okay! I tells you! Just don'ts make Toki go! I punches de wall because I was angries."

"Yeah, I gaht dat much. Why, dough?"

"I ams reallies mad at Skwisgaar."

"Aren't ya usually? What'd he do this taim?" Toki blushed and looked down.

"Ugh. Toki, ya didn't, ya know…? Guy's a total man-slut and yer just gahnna get hert. Or get a disease." Actually, both were nearly guaranteed.

"I toughts I coulds handles it. We didn'ts does nothin', buts I wanted to, buts den Skwisgaar saids no, dat he didn'ts want me to think dat it woulds means somethings."

While the idea of Skwisgaar and Toki fooling around repulsed Pickles, he found himself vaguely respecting the Swede for showing that much restraint.

"I just thoughts dat maybe…"

"What, Toki? You thaught if ya put out, he'd love ya?" Pickles didn't mean it to sound so callous, but it was probably better to opt for brutal honesty. Toki didn't need squishy half-truths right now.

"Puts out what? Like, de fire?" Okay, the point had been totally lost.

"Ya thaught if ya let 'im, ya know, with ya that he'd suddenly love ya, didn't ya?"

"… I guesses."

"Ya can't make someone else love ya, kid. It don't werk dat way."

"It hurtses so bad, Pickle," Toki's breath hitched and he pressed his forearm against his eyes. Pickles wrapped his arms around Toki's middle, an instinctual reaction to people that he cared about when they were upset or sad. Only person he'd never hugged like this was Murderface and that was only because Murderface always smelled a horrific combination of bourbon, beef jerky and stale urine. That, and the bassist would probably go into a gay-panic coma.

"I know, Toki." He didn't know what to do beyond offer physical comfort. Pickles had never been very good at emotionally dealing with problems. Sometimes a hug and a few words of comfort were enough.

Toki hiccupped and turned into him. He petted the chestnut hair, resting his cheek on Toki's forehead. The kid even smelled like sadness, whatever that smelled like. Suddenly, all his other senses were irrelevant, as his sense of touch was overloaded by the young Norwegian's lips pressing into his. Hard. He didn't react at first, his mind reeling. What the hell was Toki doing!? He backed away, removing his arms from the guitarist and smacked a hand over his lips, like they'd been hurt.

"Toki, whet th' hell're ya doin!?"  
"I's sorry, Pickle. I don'ts know what's I'ms doing. I's so… it hurts sos bad," Toki made a clumsy attempt to regain contact with the drummer, but was gently, and firmly, rebuffed.

"Toki, I know it's hard. But ya shouldn't jest throw yerself at someone jest because yer lonely and sahd."

"I's sorry. I guesses it ams pretties stupid, rights? No one wants a stupids baby likes Toki," the brunet began towards the door and Pickles grabbed his good wrist.

"Stahp talkin' like dat about yerself! Toki, yer a smart, sweet, gahddamn good-lookin' kid! If thet asshole Skwisgaar cahn't see dat, he ain't worth it!" Toki nodded faintly, but didn't look at Pickles. He pulled his wrist from the drummer's grasp and headed toward the door.

"I can't does nothins right," he whispered.

"That ain't true, Toki!" Pickles stepped in front of him. "Ya ain't leavin' here feelin' like a piece a' sheet, a'reight? Why'da care if Skwisgaar wants ya? Ya can do sooooooo much better!"

"I don't wants to does better, Pickle. I loves him."

"Love? Yeesh." Pickles realized now that it was going to be a looooooong night. "Why?"

"Why whats?"

"Why do you love… him, of all people?"

"We has a lots in common, we spends a wholly lot of time togethers, he ams pretties good looking, he ams de best guitars player in de world…" Toki would have been counting off on his fingers, based on his tone.

"Ya sher that all those ahr good enough reasons?"

Toki looked puzzled. "What else ams important?"

"I guess what I'm askin'… emotionally, ya know, why do ya wanna be wit' him?"

"He ams… Skiwsgaar. I can'ts… Explaining its is hard… even when he ams mean to me, I ams just glad because den he ams at leasts talkings to me. Mine heart, it beats a krillion mile an hours whens we am together…" Pickles smiled his crooked smile and shook his head, dreadlocks swinging in front of his face.

"Ya gaht it bad, kid. I didn't even know ya were ghey."

"I don'ts t'ink I ams gay…"

"Well, Toki, have ya ever had… you know… with a ladiee?"

Toki shook his head. "Froms what Nathan and Moidaface has says, pussies am disguistings. I don'ts know that I wants to gets involved in thats. I like de kissings and huggings, but…" Toki shuddered when he thought about below the waist of his groupies.

"Ya ever liked another gai?"

"You promises not to laugh?"

"No. But ya gatta tell me anieeway," Pickles smirked. If Toki wanted to stay, he had to do what Pickles wanted.

"For a longs time, I liked you, Pickle," Toki blushed. The news didn't exactly surprise the drummer.

"Rilly?" no point in completely humiliating Toki.

"Yeah, you's was always nice to me. I likeds being withs you."

"Yeah, but, thet's friendship, Toki. Did ya ever, ya know… think I was… hat?"

Toki's guilty look spoke volumes. Pickles chuckled.

"Pickle?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Cans you helps me?"

"Wit' what?" Toki lowered his head, more in embarrassment than in indication of what he was talking about, but Pickles looked down anyway. The bulge in Toki's pants was merely a small bump at the moment, but he was obviously distressed over it.

"Dood… ya can't… ya know… can ya?"

Toki shook his head, tears threatening. The past few days had been very sexually frustrating. Without a tour going on, groupies weren't in limitless supply for the random blow job or tittyfuck, and Toki had had to deal with several painful erections in that time. Rubbing against his mattress helped, but he couldn't quite get himself off, and his other hand was worse than useless for the task. The rhythm guitarist in him should have been mortified by this.

"I dunno, Toki… this's kinda gay… kinda rilly gay…"

"Please, Pickle? I can'ts ask no ones else." Pickles sighed. It wasn't like he'd never given a handjob before. The eighties had been a strange, strange time. He definitely wasn't gay, but he wasn't uncomfortable with the idea. Screwing around was screwing around. And Toki was his pal. It wasn't romantic or anything; he'd be helping a pal out.

"Okee. C'mere," Pickles guided Toki to the bed with a hand on the small of his back and Toki allowed himself to be herded without indication that he was going to take any action on his own. He was asking Pickles a favor; he wouldn't ruin it by not doing exactly what the drummer wanted.

It wasn't nerves on Pickle's part, but he hesitated momentarily before unbuttoning Toki's pants and sliding them down to his knees. Toki's half-erection poked free at the first opportunity and Toki screwed his eyes shut in embarrassment. He deeply regretted asking Pickles for this, now.

"Toki," Pickles took a seat next to him. Toki forced himself to look at the drummer. "Relax." Pickles looked so serious and so intense that Toki could only throw his upper body forward and crush his lips against the drummer's. Pickles had been about to say 'pretend it's Skwisgaar if ya want,' but before he could get that crucial bit out, Toki's mouth was hungrily plundering his with a more skilled tongue than the Norwegian used to speak English. Again, Pickles didn't feel incredibly uncomfortable, the eighties had been a strange, strange time, after all.

He took the younger man's cock in hand and began to stroke it, gingerly, to complete hardness. Toki gasped and moaned, as he usually did during sex. When Pickles pulled away to further concentrate on just getting the kid off, Toki lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to forget where he was and who was jacking him off with such talented hands. Skwisgaar's hands would be just as talented…

Pickles rhythmically pumped his fist, willing himself to not get aroused by the increasingly wanton twists and cries of the Norwegian splayed on his bed. The flush of color radiating upward from his chest was the killer.

"Nnnggg… Skwisg… Uhnnn…" Toki whimpered, eyes still closed. Pickles felt a small twinge of relief. At least the kid wasn't getting turned on by him. This made it easier to keep his own arousal in check. Of course, a moaning, naked body squirming beneath his touch was still hot, regardless of the gender.

Pickles stroked faster and harder and Toki yelped in surprise. His moaning increased in volume, incrementally with each breath. Pickle's wrist was getting tired in this position, so he straddled the brunet's legs for a better angle. Toki was too preoccupied to notice, or if he did he said nothing in protest.

The encounter would have been completed and entirely forgotten, had Skwisgaar not been walking back from escorting a GMILF to the front door. The oldest ones deserved better treatment than dumping them off on the Kloakateers. He usually just kicked the young groupies out with a dismissive wave of his hand, but he liked to see the older ones off. He passed Pickle's door and was nearly out of earshot when he heard Toki's voice filtering through the door. There were no words attached to it, just sounds. Sounds Skwisgaar knew too well. It didn't matter who the person was, sex sounds were sex sounds. Something akin to curiosity stirred and Skiwsgaar pressed an ear to the door. Toki's chirpy, reedy voice was jumping the octaves as Pickles did whatever it was that Pickles was doing. Though, the drummer was oddly quiet. Maybe he just wasn't very vocal during the act. Some people weren't.

His thoughts didn't linger for long on Pickles as he pictured Toki, lying back, pressed into the mattress as a nondescript figure fucked him. Hard. Toki bit his lip and groaned in a note that would have been more associate with Nathan. Skwisgaar smirked at the range of the rhythm guitarist. He wondered if Toki's lack of control extended to tasks like blow jobs. Slobbering, with no rhythm, his thin lips wrapped around a cock, his nose nuzzling blond pubic hair… Skwisgaar shook his head. He didn't want Toki sucking him off. But he couldn't help the growing interest, making itself evident in his pants, and his wandering hand, well, hands. One rubbed against his crotch in a simultaneous attempt to adjust himself to a less painful position and to abate some of the impossible horniness that had suddenly overcome him. The other hand strayed to the doorknob. If he was careful, he could open the door a crack and see, exactly, what Pickles was doing that was causing Toki such pleasure.

Sure enough, the door wasn't locked and Skwisgaar was able to open it a crack to peek inside. Toki's fists were twisted in the blankets as Pickles straddled his lap and jerked him off, looking his usual smug self, but with a mixture of concentration. Toki was close by Skwisgaar's estimation of his breath and the red blush on his face. The blond was something of an orgasm technician. Speaking of… his jeans were suddenly way, way too tight, and he didn't want to wait until he was back in his room. Besides, porn was acted, this was real. And hot. Even though Pickles was fully clothed, Skwisgaar could see his excitement very visibly. He focused much more attention on his Scandinavian counterpart, however, since the young man was half stripped and was the one being stroked, after all. Skwisgaar silently unzipped his jeans and removed himself with a firm, purposeful hand. He watched and matched his stroking with Pickle's, shifting his gaze to Toki's face and arms, which were thrown carelessly to each side of his head.

Toki only lasted long enough to bring Skiwsgaar to the point right before orgasm, but not quite over the edge. As the brunet came with a cry, spunk splashing onto his stomach and his t-shirt, Skwisgaar silently swore. He quickly zipped himself back in and rushed for his room, lest Toki suddenly run to the door to leave and catch him, mid-masturbation. How humiliating would that be?

"Taak, Pickle," Toki cleaned himself off as Pickles slid off to one side and grinned.

"No prahblem, kid. Hey, uh, can we naht tell de odders what happened?"

"I wasn'ts goings to," did Pickles think Toki was retarded? Nathan was slightly homophobic, despite his knowledge of Pickle's life previous to Dethklok, and Toki was damn sure Murderface would out both of them to the media out of sheer stupidity. This could stay their little secret. "Pickle?"

"Yeah, Toki?"

"Ifs I needs helps again…"

Pickles snorted. "Sher. But next time, ya gahtta help me out after, okee?" He shifted uncomfortably and Toki's eyes strayed to his crotch.

"You wants me to takes care of dat nows?"

"Nah, you go ta bed."

"Thanks agains, Pickle," Toki left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"Dumb dildo-licker."

Toki probably wouldn't ask Pickles for 'help' again. Pickle's hands were magic, but he didn't want to suck the drummer off (how else would he "return the favor," with his hand broken?). At least he could go to sleep without worrying that his thoughts would stray to Skwisgaar…


	4. Broken hearts, angry Irishmen

Damn Nathan and his damn destroying the record and forcing Knubbler to get canned, and damn that Abigail! She couldn't even be bothered to put out so Skwisgaar could concentrate on anything besides the next time he'd get to jack off. It was like she didn't know how to be a professional!

Toki's hand had healed, finally, and just in time to record a replacement for the album Nathan had destroyed. Being on a submarine for months on end, though, was not the healthiest environment for the two guitarists to be exposed to one another. Toki still avoided being alone with Skwisgaar and refused to speak to him unless it had to do with technical things like feedback or a note placement. Pickles had actually stepped in as the intermediary between the two, learning Toki's part from Skiwsgaar and teaching Toki. Skwisgaar sometimes presided over these lessons with a watchful eye. He sometimes idly wondered if Pickles and Toki were still screwing around. Though watching Toki in the throes of passion had been incredibly arousing, the more he thought about it, the more it nagged at some small part of his brain. He and Toki were the closest, and he knew for a fact that Toki wanted him. Why had he gone to Pickles, when Skwisgaar had already offered to take good care of him? He would have been the best lay Toki would ever have! There was no way Pickles could compare to his skillful hands and encyclopedic knowledge of human anatomy. At least, the important parts.

Nothing seemed to have changed between the drummer and the guitarist, though. They joked around and were friendly, sometimes a lingering touch on the shoulder sent the Swede's hackles up, but it was just as quickly gone and Skiwsgaar would do his best to push it out of his mind, too.

Tensions began to grow worse as the confinement stretched to an intolerable amount of time. Skwisgaar no longer knew or cared how long they'd all been down here, but he was about to lose his damn mind from a lack of sex and being told he couldn't even touch himself. Honestly, at this point, he would have welcomed and encouraged Toki's unskilled advances. At least someone would be touching him. Meanwhile, Pickles and Nathan were at each other's throats constantly over that stupid lady producer. Skwisgaar hadn't liked her from the moment she'd set foot in Mordhaus. He could always sense the ladies that would be some sort of trouble, and Abigail was no exception. She sent off alarm bells when she opened her mouth and asked about their "process."

The band did get ripped as a result of their imprisonment, however. Skiwsgaar felt, for the first time, that he looked almost as good as Toki. Toki didn't join them in working out but stayed as cut as always. He stayed in such good shape, in fact, that Murderface started to notice. It probably didn't help that Toki had taken to wearing his shrunken pink tank top and underpants at inappropriate moments. Any moments, in Skwisgaar's opinion, were inappropriate moments for an outfit like that. It wasn't a matter of being prude; Toki just looked so fucking stupid.

"At this point I'll take what I can get!" Murderface launched himself at a bent over Toki. They both collapsed to the ground, Toki's head banging against the metal floor with a sharp clang. Nathan was about to intervene, but Skwisgaar was far, far too quick for him and had already knocked Murderface away from his bandmate and had twisted an arm behind him, pinning him, face first, against the floor, a knee digging sharply into the center of his back.

"Don't you touches him agains! You gots me!?" he hissed, twisting harder.

"Ahh! Fuck! Nathan get him off me!" Nathan did nothing.

"Says it!"

"I'll leave Toki the fuck alone, you fucking lunatic!" Skwisgaar released him and stormed out.

There was a soft knock at his door a few hours later. He opened it to find Toki, looking down at his roller-skated feet.

"Yes? Can I be helpings you?" Skwisgaar was a little glad that Toki had sought him out, but that was overridden by his desire to make the younger man suffer a bit.

"I wanteds to say thanks you."

"Nots necessary," Skwisgaar tried to shut the door in Toki's face, but the rhythm guitarist grabbed hold and forced Skwisgaar to make eye contact with him. That was uncomfortable. "What else does you wants, Toki?"

"I… you… uh… It's…." Toki groped for words, looking like he was thinking so hard it hurt. Skwisgaar finally released the doorknob and stepped back to allow Toki in. He kept the door open, though. Nothing was going to happen. Toki had made it clear and Skwisgaar wasn't about to put himself into a position where Toki started something and then blamed Skwisgaar for it. Not again, anyway.

_"Is it easier if you talk in Norwegian?"_

"Maybe… but I'm not finding the right words."

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"Because you rejected me."

"I did not, Toki. I just said that-"

"You said that you wanted to sleep with me if it meant you'd get what you want."

"That's what all relationships are. You give something and someone gives you something you want. It's how the world works, Toki."

"That's not… I mean… you..."

"That doesn't matter. I see you moved on pretty quick, anyway," Skwisgaar immediately regretted letting that slip. Toki's eyes widened and then narrowed.__

"What are you talking about?" he said in a dangerous tone. Too late to turn back now.__

"I heard you in Pickles room. How the whole house didn't hear, I don't know. I guess as long as someone pays you attention, you whore."

Toki looked stricken. Skwisgaar had heard… the only remotely good thing was that he had obviously not heard his name slip out during his… incident, with Pickles. The matter-of-fact assessment of Toki's sexual predilections toward anyone, indiscriminately, was what processed second.

_"I'm not a whore, Skwisgaar! Not like you! Not like your mother!"_

"At least I know what I am, Toki. You're just a liar and a hypocrite."

"I couldn't… so Pickles… it wasn't like… just… friends…" words, even Norwegian words, failed him. The desire to fight had long passed. He no longer wanted to explain anything to Skwisgaar. He just wanted to go to his room and cry.__

"You two are good_ friends, right. I get it."_ Skwisgaar looked angry. Furious. Toki was confused more than he was angry back. The Swede turned his back on Toki. "Gets out."

Toki sighed and left. Skwisgaar was somewhat surprised, having half-expected Toki to stay as long as he was not physically removed. Once alone, Skwisgaar took up his guitar and practiced mercilessly well into the morning hours. Not that one could tell what time of day it was on the sub.

"Pickle!" Toki knocked until Pickles opened the door, sleep refusing to leave his face, his dreads disheveled.

"Toki, what tha hell? It's like two in da mornin'."

"We ams just friends! It didn'ts means nothin'!"

Pickles was momentarily confused, as anyone would be if a hysterical, babbling Norwegian showed up at their door in the middle of the night. Oh. Right. "Toki, get yer ass in here!" Once Toki was safely inside and the door was shut he turned to the guitarist.

"Why are ya goin' around yellin' we're just friends? I taught we were gahnna, ya know, NAHT do dat?"

"Skwisgaar knows, Pickle! He heardsed and he knows!"

"Aww, shit."

"And he ams mads at me, sayings I ams a whore and a hippos-script!"

"Hooooboy…" Pickles scratched the back of his neck. He definitely hadn't expected to get caught in the middle of what wasn't a lover's spat but sure as hell felt like it.

"He says I just moveds on when he says he can'ts does nothings with me and—" Toki was sobbing hard now. Everything was so screwed up. He'd screwed everything up. This was all his fault.

"Toki, lie down."

"No, we can'ts—" Toki's alarm caused the hyperventilation to begin anew.

"No, ya dumb dildo! Jest… go tha fuck ta sleep, okee? We'll sort it out in tha mornin'." Pickles walked out without waiting for a reply. Toki curled up in the drummer's bed, like he'd been told to and pulled the blankets over his head, willing himself to disappear.

"Pickle!" Skwisgaar started when the door to his room flew open, an angry redhead on the other side.

"Do ya know what's in mai room right nao?"

"Probablies a millions bottle of liquor," Skwisgaar smiled at his own joke.

"I gaht a sobbin' Norwegian. I'm tryin' to go tha fuck to sleep and he comes knackin' all upset. I don't like getting' woken up by a cryin' kid! Dat's why I'm in a band!"

"You didn'ts feel like fuckings when he wokes you up, ah?" Skwisgaar sneered. His encounter with Toki had left him on edge and looking for a fight. He stood from his bed, towering over Pickles. The drummer, undaunted, walked into the room, closed the door and stepped menacingly toward the blond.

"There ain't nothin' going ahn between me an' Toki!"

"You givin's him a handsjob says a lots different—" oh, fuck! When would Skwisgaar learn to keep his stupid, fucking mouth shut? Pickle's lip curled in disgust.

"I don't wahnna know how ya know," though Pickles had a pretty good idea… "that… but I ain't in tha middle of this bullshit! Ya strung tha kid along, then pushed him away and _then… you_ have tha gall to say he's a whore when he was just askin' fer help. Yer a piece a' work, Skwisgaar. Dat's all I can say about dat. Yer a fuckin' piece of work."

Skwisgaar was at a loss for words.

"A'hm glad dat Toki didn't sleep wit chu. You ain't werth the dirt on tha bottom of his boots."

Pickles turned and walked out.


	5. No more running away

"No, no, no! You cannot have this, too! Ya greedy, fat asshole! Ya fucking destroyed tha record and ya fuckin' take everything ya see and ya just take, and ya take, and ya take!"

"It's a shames, I was really gettings used to this gigs."

The schism between Toki, Pickles and Skwisgaar was forgotten in the whole Abigail debacle. The fight was now between Nathan and Pickles. Naturally, Skwisgaar took Nathan's side, mainly to piss Pickles off. He and Toki had managed to settle back into an uneasy geniality, but Toki spent most of his time in the company of Murderface… well, until Murderface's jack off photos got released. The most disturbing part of the whole incident was the fact that the photo was the first time he found out about Murderface in his bed. He promptly bought a new bed.

Toki didn't sit with Skwisgaar at the funeral of Roy Cornickelson. Instead, Skwisgaar was between a sullen Pickles and a reeking-of-bad-cologne Murderface. Toki was sitting with that bastard from all those years ago who'd tried to kill Nathan during a heated exchange in the living room of Nathan and Pickles' old apartment. And next to them was that woman. The cause of the current state of Dethklok.

"Okay… I mean I remember when we met and we were young and everything was simple and we had our lives together and we knew who we were. And it's all changed now, it's- everything is worse. My band isn't even together, and I've alienated my friends and it's because of me… it's because it's my fault. It's- Pickles! I know you hate me, and so do I—not you, I mean I hate me, I hate me too! And I don't care anymore, because I want you to know I'm soh—"

"Damnsit Nathan! Says it goddamn it!" Skwisgaar clenched his fists. This was so much bigger than Nathan saving the band or preventing the end of the world. He couldn't have Dethklok break up. Not now. Skwisgaar didn't know why, but Nathan saying this was the most important thing that would ever need to happen in his life. In all their lives. The blood vomit made Skwisgaar momentarily believe Nathan would die before he got it out, but, finally…

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I destroyed the record! I'm sorry that I took the girl, but I don't want her, if it means I can't have you being my drummer! And I want Dethklok back!" Pickle's smile was one that the band members hadn't seen in a very long time. It was nearly pure happiness, tinged with only a hint of the relief that he must have felt. He stood and approached Nathan and, after a moment of tension—not knowing whether Pickles would kiss or clock the singer, they embraced like brothers. Not like Seth and Pickles, like normal brothers who didn't hate each other.

"This is the most emotionally brutal thing I've ever experienced." The joyous reunion was cut short by a sharp beeping and blinking light. Barely five seconds later, an explosion tore the ground apart beneath Skwisgaar's feet. It was all he could do to push Murderface safely to solid ground. Acting on impulses, he flew toward the band like they were a magnet and he, a steel ball. Once safely with his friends, he looked around frantically. Toki was nowhere to be seen!

"Pickles get over here!"  
"Toki!" Pickles cried, his voice as frantic as Skwisgaar felt.

Skwisgaar could detect his friend through the smoke. Toki was trying, desperately, to edge away from Magnus and toward the chasm that had been created in the blast. To what end, Skwisgaar wasn't sure, as the trench was too wide to jump across, and he couldn't see the bottom in the darkness. "Toki, it's okay, stay by me. Stay next to me!" Magnus growled at the rhythm guitarist, fisting a handful of hair and twisting Toki's arm behind his back.

"Ow, you're hurtin's me!" The Swede's stomach lurched. He could see and hear everything, despite the commotion around him and the heavy smoke, but he was absolutely powerless. Toki made eye contact with him for an instant before his head was tilted backward and Magnus thrust a dagger up in the air…

"Revenge! Has! Come!"

"No!" Nathan cried out, seeming to be the only band member who wasn't paralyzed by the scene before them.

With an animal's cry, the dagger was driven into Toki, spilling his blood down Magnus' wrist and onto the ground. Skwisgaar's scream caught in his throat and his entire body seized up, not even allowing him to crumple to the ground like his numb form so desperately wanted to. Charles had to physically wrap an arm around Skwisgaar's waist, sling the guitarist's arm over his shoulders and drag him back to the sub. Skwisgaar allowed himself to be lead, but only because Toki had disappeared into the smoke. What was the point in standing in the empty field?

He stood, looking out the window of the sub because the manager had placed him there, but he didn't listen to what the others were saying beyond the priest's assertion: "we believe him to still be alive." He wanted so desperately to believe it that he willed himself to be deaf to all other conversation about the matter. For the next few days, he didn't do anything of his own volition. He was led into the common area for meals and to sit among the others, and led back to his room at bedtime. Time seemed to melt together into one sticky block that mired him down deeper into overwhelming helplessness and despair. His guitar sat for days in its holder, looking forlorn at its disuse, but Skwisgaar had no interest in picking it up, especially since the weight of it would probably send him careening forward into the floor.

The others took turns watching Skwisgaar, as they'd been instructed to by Charles. The manager, and to some degree the band, worried that Skwisgaar might do something to harm himself. Even when he was sitting on the couch in the same room as them, staring up at the ceiling, they talked about him like he wasn't there.

"I'm worried about Skwisgaahr," Pickles muttered to Nathan, who nodded.

"He'sch completely loscht his mind," Murderface stabbed the arm of his couch with his favorite knife.

"I don't know what we can do, I mean, unless we get Toki back-"

"Until, Nat'an, _until _we get Toki bahck."

"… Right. Until we get Toki back, I don't think he's gonna snap out of it."

"He's like when Toki's parents were here and Toki gaht all weird and quiet."

"You mean like a coma?"

"No, a coma'sch where you schleep and can't wake up. I think it'sch comatosche."

"Whatever," the singer rolled his eyes.

Skwisgaar couldn't take being talked about anymore. He couldn't take them saying things that made him doubt whether his rhythm guitarist was still alive. He had to be. He couldn't be… Skwisgaar was too horrified to even put the notion into a concrete concept in his mind. He bolted upright and stalked out of the room to find Ofdensen.

"Skwisgaar, I'm, ah, glad to see you're up and about on your, ah, own."

"Ofensensens! Why ams we nots lookin' for Toki?! I cant's sits downs here like de fish whiles he ams hurt and alones!"

"Skwisgaar, I assure you that we're doing everything we can. There are already several leads on his whereabouts, but you have to be patient."

"How cans I bes patient! Little Toki ams all alone and scareds and is hurts real bad!" Skwisgaar's voice rose in pitch, the dam of emotion threatening to burst with each word.

"I know it's, ah, difficult. Trust me, Skwisgaar, we're all taking this hard."

Skwisgaar laughed bitterly. "It certainsly don'ts seem likes it!"

Ofdensen straightened his tie as he was wont to do when uncomfortable.

"I know that you feel powerless. I, uh, I do, too. I try to be strong, for you boys, but, even for me, this time…" Charles removed his glasses and ran his fingertips and thumb across his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, sniffling. "I want to get him back, just as, ah, badly as you boys do."

Skwisgaar, for the first time in days, felt an emotion besides anger and sadness. He felt badly for having yelled at a man who did everything for the band. He always knew that Ofdensen worked behind the scenes and did whatever was necessary to protect and make Dethklok comfortable. He pretended he didn't, that he didn't care, that he thought the manager was the butler, but he was keenly aware of the sacrifices the older man had made on his behalf.

"I… I ams sorries," he hung his head.

"No, Skwisgaar; I'm sorry. I should have been able to protect Toki better."

Skwisgaar's sob was a horrible, strangled sound and he quickly worked to choke back a second one. The tears wouldn't stop, however, and in the end, a soft, weak kind of sobbing issued forth. By this time, he'd sat right where he was, on the floor. Charles knelt down by his side and put a hand on his shoulder. The manager didn't know what else he could do for Skwisgaar, who seemed broken without his Scandinavian foil. They hated each other so intensely that it was something that looped back around to intense, fierce caring, and from Skwisgaar's side, a powerful protectiveness that overwhelmed the manager in its strength. He felt tears leaking from the corners of his own eyes, and, not caring that he was supposed to be the strong, stoic rock, wrapped his arms around Skwisgaar's shoulders and held on. He didn't expect the Swede to react to the comforting touch, but, to his surprise, Skwisgaar buried his face in Ofdensen's lapel and clutched his hands, like talons, around his arm.

"What ams we gons'ta do, Charles?" it was the first time that any of the other band members, besides Pickles, had used his first name. He was momentarily taken aback, but quickly regained what little composure he could.

"We're going to do whatever it takes. To bring Toki home."


	6. Anything, Min Toki

Charles's efforts were redoubled and Skwisgaar frequently followed the manager around, demanding to know if any new developments had occurred, or if he could do something to help. His bandmates had never seen him behave like this before and took up his example wholeheartedly. Nathan and Murderface both spent hours each day practicing wrestling moves and close combat. Charles, at their request, hired an instructor to teach them to become proficient in firearms. Pickles initially also followed Charles around, but laid off when Charles took him aside and explained that Skwisgaar needed the distraction much more than he did, and the manager's nerves were stretched tight by one person following him around already. Pickles nodded, dejected, but rounded up a few Klokateers of his own to follow up on leads as to the whereabouts of Toki and Abigail.

Finally, two weeks into their search, something concrete turned up. The Revengencers' stronghold was deep in a darkened trench in the Middle East. There, a network of vast caves provided a natural fortress. Charles sent a reconnaissance team in and all but three returned with the good news. The Revengencers, and Magnus, were, indeed, holed up in the network of caves and deep in the maze, they had Toki and Abigail.

_

Abigail hadn't moved from her spot on the floor in two days. Toki was worried. His back had been treated, so he wouldn't die, but he'd had no painkillers and had to force himself through the pain on his own. Abigail had been an angel, cleaning his wound daily so he wouldn't get an infection, stroking his hair with his head in her lap while he cried and told her how much he missed the others. How much he missed Skwisgaar. She would hum songs from her childhood in the hope of soothing him to sleep. When he did sleep, he woke in the darkness, crying out from the nightmares. None of his bandmates were there to comfort him and tell him to go back to sleep, it wasn't real, that he was safe. Abigail offered the first two, but couldn't say they were safe.

The comfort that she had provided ended two days ago, when Magnus and two other Revengencers came into the small cell and took Abigail away with them. Toki threw himself against the bars and cried out for her, tears running in two rivulets down his cheeks, as he heard Abigail's screams. At first, they were pure, high noises, but after a while, they grew ragged, and then stopped completely. Toki thought the worst, but then, Abigail was dragged back into the cell, half conscious and wearing what looked like a t-shirt for a very large man, and nothing else, and dropped to the floor like a broken doll. She did not move, and Toki knelt beside her, gently saying her name. When he put a hand on her shoulder, to turn her over, she shrieked and attempted to crawl away.

"Abigail! It ams me! Toki!" but she only whimpered in response. She did not look at him and Toki did not try to touch her again. He watched over here, vowing to kill anyone else who came in here and damning himself for being so preoccupied with thoughts of Skwisgaar that he was not able to stop Magnus and the others. Occasionally, they were given food, and daily water, but Abigail hadn't touched hers. Finally, Toki couldn't stand it anymore and moved slowly to Abigail, making sure she saw him crawling over.

"Abigail, you gots to drinks somesthing. Please."

"… I want to die, Toki. Please let me die," she whispered, her eyes meeting his. The despair and pain of what she'd experienced two days ago struck something deep inside Toki. He remembered that pain. The deep, deep pain that made death seem a sweet release from everything. He knew those eyes, because they were his own.

"No, no, Abigails," Toki whispered, reaching out, very, very slowly, to touch her hair. She let him, wincing when he made contact. "Dey ams gonna finds us. Soons. I promises." Toki knew he shouldn't promise such a thing, but, just like Abigail needed to hear it, he needed to say it. If he couldn't believe the others were coming from them, he might as well die, too. Abigail began to weep, and Toki with her.

_

"Now listen, boys. Stay with your assigned detail. Do not, under any circumstances, go, ah, off on your own. The Revengencers are dangerous, ah, very dangerous. As for the teams, take no prisoners, we have no need for prisoners. Kill everyone who isn't, ah, Toki and Abigail," Charles, and everyone else, were dressed in browns and grays to blend more easily with the landscape. The boys looked anxious, Nathan shifting from one foot to the other and Murderface tossing his knife between his hands. Skwisgaar was wearing his usual haughty sneer, and Pickles was cracking various body parts. "Be careful. We'll, ah, split off here. Nathan, Murderface, you're, ah, with me. Skwisgaar, Pickles, you go that way," he pointed down a long, dark corridor.

He knew that he should keep Skwisgaar close, but he was fairly certain Toki was down his passageway and wasn't sure he wanted the Swede to see Toki in whatever condition they would find him.

_

Abigail had finally fallen asleep after accepting some water from Toki and he was now sitting with his back against the cool stone, his thoughts going back to his friends. Skwisgaar always moved to the forefront of his thoughts, though. His favorite memory now was the night that Skwisgaar had held him as they fell asleep. Though it was excruciating at the time, the closeness, the memory of Skwisgaar's touch actually in his skin, he wanted more than anything to get into another physical scrap with the Swede. He wanted to hear Skwisgaar call him a dildo baby and say his guitar playing was awful. He'd cried every time Abigail had been asleep, and now was no exception. This time, Toki had to bite his knuckles to still his sobs.

"Skwisgaar…" he whispered, curling his knees to his chest.

"Toki…" oh god, he was finally insane from the confinement. He was hearing the lead guitarist's voice. "Toki!" The door to the main room, from which the main cell was carved out, was smashed open. Two hooded figures rushed through first. Pickles followed, gun drawn. Then, Skwisgaar, the lanky, beautiful Swede, followed, gun also raised, night vision goggles obscuring his lovely blue eyes.

When his gaze drifted to the cell and he saw Toki, he immediately dropped his weapon and bolted to the bars.

"Toki!" he reached through the bars, like he hoped to phase through them. Toki couldn't move as quickly as Skwisgaar, a bizarrely funny parallel to their playing onstage. Toki laughed once, a strange reaction, given the things he'd endured the past three weeks (he really had no idea how long it had been). He tried to stand, to no avail, and then crawled over to the gate. Skwisgaar crouched and reached forward, Toki's hand pressing palm against palm.

"You ams really here…" Toki whispered. Skwisgaar removed his goggles but said nothing in response.

"Get 'em outta dere, chief," Pickles ordered, and the Gears quickly set to work on the door. By this time, the commotion had woken Abigail.

"Skwisgaar? Pickles?" she rolled over and looked at them, owlishly.

"Hey, Abigail," Pickles smiled, a genuine smile, like he had at the funeral. "We're gonna get ya both outta here."

"Good," she collapsed back to the ground and closed her eyes.

"Toki, what haeppened to 'er?"

Toki's eyes met his and his lip trembled. It was too terrible to be spoken and Pickle's eyes widened, then narrowed.

Gunfire was heard close by. Very close.

"Well, well, well. Looks like the gang's mostly here," a voice said coolly from the doorway. Magnus held a gun easily at his side, leaning against the doorway. Before either of the Gears knew what was happening they were both on the cave's floor, bullets embedded in their skulls. Pickles waited, hoping the Klokateers they'd left outside would… that was where the gunshots came from. Pickles was the only one armed now, his shot had to count.

"Its was him," Toki hissed, knowing Pickles would understand. Unfortunately, the anger incited by this new information caused Pickle's arm to shake violently, making a straight shot highly unlikely. Still, he fired, missing, as expected, and Magnus took his own shot, hitting Pickles in the shoulder and causing him to drop his gun.

Magnus drew closer, and Toki felt Skwisgaar's hand tighten around his own. The blond then rose to his feet, back to Toki and Abigail, shoulders hunched, ready. "De only way you ams touchings dem is to kills me."

"Easily done," a cruel smile spread across his lips.

"Skwisgaar…" Toki's voice was small, far away. No. He couldn't lose his best friend in the world. No. Not now that he had him back. No! The adrenaline canceled most of the pain in his back and he pulled himself up to full height, throwing himself against the bars of the cell with all his strength. "Skwisgaar!" he cried in a horrible voice. "Don'ts!"

"Shuts up, Toki," he glanced over his shoulder and stared Toki down. Toki was  
familiar with that look. It was the Swede's "you-don't-fuck-with-me-right-now" look. He couldn't back down.

"Skwisgaar, pleases…"

"I don't have the iwhole/i gang here, but I guess beggars can't be choosers. I'm sure my friends have made short work of the others. Anders," that must be the name of the masked man, "knew I could handle a couple of idiots like you two on my own. And he was completely right."

Magnus didn't see it coming. Pickles had managed to retrieve his gun and move to an appropriate angle behind Magnus. Skwisgaar's mouth twitched into a smirk.

The shot was fired. Magnus's hand went, instinctually, to his heart. Pickles had great aim, truly.

"Coupla idiots, huh?" Pickles taunted as Magnus fell to his knees, looking over his shoulder as Pickles pushed him to his side with a boot.

"Toos bad," Skwisgaar walked to him, glaring down. "I hads hoped he'd lives long enoughs for mes to torte-sures him."

"Eh, sahrry, man. Couldn't take tha chance of him retaliatin'." Pickles shrugged, apologetic.

"You ams lucky," he growled, as Magnus coughed up blood. "If you'ds have lived… the things I woulds have done tos you…"

Magnus chuckled, coughing again. "You wouldn't have the balls." Magnus died.

Skwisgaar scowled, giving the corpse a kick. Pickles reached for the radio by his side.

"Cahn you call Charles and de odders? Mai hand is kinda… fecked up, here."

Skwisgaar did as Pickles asked, and when they locked eyes, suddenly, all past hatred and tension was forgotten. Pickles and Skwisgaar had an unspoken agreement solidified. They simultaneously realized that while both cared for Toki, it was not, nor had it ever been, in the same way.

"Charles, it ams Skwisgaar."

"Are, ah, you boys alright?"

"We ams got to Toki and Abisgail, buts they ams in a cell. We can'ts gets them out and our Gears is dead. We killeds Magnus, dough."

"We've locked onto your position, we'll be there soon."

"Hurries up, Pickle ams bleeding from his hands."

"Roger." The radio's crackle was abruptly cut off.

"Don't worry, we're gahnna get you two outta dere real soon," Pickles crouched by the bars and looked in at Abigail. She stared back, her expression neutral.

Charles and the others made their way there in record time, and soon, the gate fell from its hinges and dropped to the stone floor with a clang. Skwisgaar, like an impatient dog, slipped through the opening as soon as it was large enough and knelt next to Toki, pulling him into a hug. Toki yelped in pain, but Skwisgaar didn't, couldn't, let go. He was muttering in Swedish, but too fast to be understood by the Norwegian.

"We, ah, should get out of here."

"Abigail, if ya can't walk, I'm gahnna pick you up and carry you, alreight?" Pickles asked gently, glancing up at Nathan, whose expression did not change, indicating that he'd given up pursuing the woman who'd come between him and his drummer. Nathan had never been that interested anyway. They were on a sub, what else was he supposed to do with his time?

"Okay," she whispered, closing her eyes. "I don't think I can walk." When Pickles gathered her in his arms, her legs were opened slightly, revealing blood stains on her inner thighs. The others looked away.

Toki was in much better shape than his cell mate and only needed to lean on Skwisgaar as they exited.

Returning to Mordhaus was a slow journey, but they somehow made it. Abigail was quickly rushed to the medical wing and given the best care. Toki was looked over by a Klokateer nurse who cleaned and restitched his wound. He was put into bed and given pain medication which made him sleepy. Skwisgaar sat by Toki's bedside, his guitar returned to his hands, playing while Toki slept.

Toki fully awoke two days later, his medication induced sleep interrupted by brief minutes of dazed consciousness faded away as he opened his eyes and looked quietly at Skwisgaar, who'd fell into a light doze, his fingers dancing across the frets of his guitar, still. Toki didn't wake him, just watched, smiling.

Skwisgaar woke with a start after a minute or two and instinctively looked Toki's way, seeing he was awake. Skwisgaar swung his guitar off himself in one graceful motion and sat on Toki's bed, smiling broadly.

"You was asleeps forevser. Like dat fairies tale about dat lady…"

"You's a lady, Skwisgaar!" Toki chirped, a familiar sentiment that he was glad to express again. Skwisgaar didn't mind; he'd missed it.

"Toki, I knows dat you am probablies tired and stills hurting, but I wants you to hears somethings."

"Whats?"

Skwisgaar took up his guitar. "I wants you to tells me what you thinks of this." He began to play. The sound was still Dethklok, but the feel of the song was heavy. Sorrowful but energetic, and then it picked up pace and became something akin to a joyful tune, still sounding very Dethklok, but unlike anything the Swede had ever played before. This went on for several minutes, the song growing more and more frantic, finally hitting a fever pitch and then tapering off, hitting another pinnacle and tapering off, and finally ending in a chaotic dance of the blond's fingers up and down, up and down, mesmerizing Toki. When Skwisgaar had stopped playing, he looked at Toki expectantly.

"Wowee… dat was… amazings."

"Does you think you can plays it?"

"Ams da rhythm as hards as dat? I don'ts know… it seems awfully compfiscated."

Skwisgaar chuckled.

"Dids I says something funny?"

"You dumb dildo," Skwisgaar laughed outright. "I wants you to plays it. Whats I just played."

"DAT was de rhythm?!"

"No. Dat was de leads part."

Toki was struck dumb. He couldn't have heard that right.

"Ams you just messings with me? Dat ams't very nice. I'ms injuried."

Skwisgaar smiled softly and rested a hand on Toki's. "I wants you to plays dis solo on de last songs of de album. And I ams't gonna records over it."

Toki didn't say anything. Rather, anything intelligible. He hiccupped and then began to cry.

"Don'ts cry, Toki. I just gots you back, and I can'ts stands to see you sads now," Skwisgaar used a thumb to wipe away one of his bandmate's tears.

"You ams never been dis nice to me before."

"I ams never realizing dat you ams so important befores." Skwisgaar rested his forehead against Toki's. "Min Toki. Jag har aldrig förstått hur viktig du var för mig. När du var borta ... det var som världen hade upphört. Jag tror att ... Jag tror jag kan ..."*

Toki knew that it was now or never. And now felt like a pretty damn good moment. "Jeg elsker deg så mye. Jeg har alltid." **

With Toki having said it first, somehow the words came much easier to Skwisgaar. "Jag älskar dig också."***

Skwisgaar drew closer and he whispered conspiratorially to Toki. "When you ams better… I still has my offers on de table. Except, dis time, there ams't no strings. I wants you to plays de last solo, and… I wants… you," Skwisgaar seemed almost embarrassed to say the last part.

"I can'ts believe this ams happening. This ams everysthing I ever wanteds, all at once."

"I wants to gives you anything I can. Anything you wants, Toki."

Skwisgaar kissed Toki again, still feather-light, but with a promise of many more kisses to come.

*I never realized how important you were to me. When you were gone... it was like the world had ended. I think that... I think I might...

**I love you so much. I always have.

*** I love you, too.


	7. Everything I wants

Toki was cleared to play again in a week and two days. Skwisgaar had been rather impatient during the Norwegian's healing process, sometimes sliding back into his old habits of calling Toki names for not "healsing quicklies enough!" The rest of the band were too happy to have Toki back in their midst to pay much attention to the Swede's half-hearted tantrums. In reality, Skwisgaar's impatience stemmed from somewhere less in the interest of the band and more his own. Now that Toki was back in their midst and they'd soon be getting ready to record the final track, Skwisgaar had been recalling the night he'd seen Toki and Pickles from the hallway. It only invaded his dreams at first, easily kept to himself. But it started being harder to conceal his wants. Toki had begun stealing kisses on the way into or out of rehearsal and then walking away. After one such instance, Skwisgaar couldn't bite back his frustration.

"Toki! You can'ts be doesing dat!"

"Doesing whats?" Toki looked innocent enough.

"You cants kisses me and den just… ugh!" the Swede threw his hands up and walked away.

"Whats?" Toki cried after him. Had Skwisgaar been facing Toki, he would have seen the smirk upturning one corner of the Norwegian's mouth, making him look a bit like Pickles. With all the torture that Toki'd endured; the brushes against his thigh, the trailing fingertips on his shoulder or chest, the blond deserved at least a little teasing. It would be worth it in the end, he hoped.

After rehearsal one evening, Toki was lying on his mattress, staring up at the ceiling, contemplating the events of the past few months when he heard his door creak open. He lifted his head to see Skwisgaar's frame, leaning against the doorjamb. His stance was self-assured, seductive, and reminiscent of the night he'd tried to proposition Toki — that seemed like a million years ago. Toki sat up and swung his legs over the side, but didn't get up. He failed to see the point when he was sure he'd wind up back on the bed fairly quickly.

"Heys," Skwisgaar purred.

"Heys youself," Toki smiled.

"Comes on, dilsdo, I ams goings to be teaching you dat parts."

Well, that wasn't what Toki had expected! With a shrug, he stood and followed Skwisgaar into the living room, guitar in hand. They sat on the main couch and Skwisgaar began to play almost immediately. Toki tried to follow, but found himself stumbling more than usual. Skwisgaar wasn't mean, like he tended to be when Toki screwed up; in fact, he was understanding and almost sweet when correcting his younger bandmate. This slightly unnerved Toki and made him play even worse. He hung his head in despair. He was never going to follow this. Skwisgaar would grow tired of trying to teach him and then just play it himself because that was easier.

Skwisgaar shifted his body, stepping up on the couch behind Toki and then sitting with one leg on either side of the brunet's hips. He shifted closer, his hips moving in a fairly suggestive fashion, while his chest pressed against Toki's back. Toki started and stiffened under the contact.

"Relaxes already, sheesh," Skwisgaar took Toki's hands and moved them to the proper positions. Slowly, absurdly slowly, he moved Toki's fingers through the first set of notes. He stopped and began again, never letting go of Toki's fingers. His other hand, rather than strumming, had moved to wrap around Toki's stomach, lifting his shirt and caressing the soft skin pulled taut over the hard muscle. Not needed to pay mind to the notes he was playing—he knew them by heart already—he kissed along Toki's neck, teasingly. He smirked against the goosebumped skin when he heard Toki's breathing grow uneven. He pulled back his own hips, just to prevent Toki from realizing how incredibly turned on he was.

"You does de first parts and I keeps doesing dis," the Swede's hand teased a little higher on Toki's stomach.

With shaking hands, Toki worked through the notes, fumbling once or twice and expecting Skwisgaar to stop, as punishment for getting it wrong. Skwisgaar gently nipped at the nape of his neck and left a trail of moisture with his tongue, blowing on it.

"Goods," he whispered in Toki's ear, taking his hand and working through the next part. He repeated the instructions, and the reinforcement method that seemed to be helping. Even if Toki was only picking up the part quickly so that Skwisgaar would keep touching him, at least the music was sure to stick. And Skwisgaar had no intention to ever stop touching him. Even when Toki messed up and quickly corrected himself, Skwisgaar simply purred in his ear "very goods," or "dat's ams right."

Toki's brain was swallowed in a thick fog of lust. He didn't know how much more he could take of Skwisgaar's "teaching," before he turned and…

As though reading his mind, Skwisgaar leaned over Toki's shoulder, tilted the shorter man's face towards his and kissed him. This was unlike the other kisses. This kiss was want and need and immediate. Even its tenderness didn't disguise the urgency and heat.

"Does you wants to does dis here?" he growled at Toki, a devious smile curling his lips.

"Someones will sees us," Toki squeaked in response.

"Maysbe, maysbe not…" he kissed Toki again. Skwisgaar deftly shifted the guitar with one hand and glided a spindly finger up Toki's thigh and over the underside of his quickly hardening cock. The touch was light, but Toki was already feeling hypersensitive from Skwisgaar's "lesson" and gasped, his cheeks flushing with color.

"Cans we… cans we goes… tos…" Toki's English was all but gone, as Skwisgaar rubbed the heel of his palm over the crotch of Toki's pants.

"What's ams you tryin's to say, little Toki?" Skwisgaar whispered huskily.

"Hey, Murderface, did you see the- um… uh hiiiiiiiiiiii..." Nathan stood in the doorway, looking up from his newspaper. No one moved. Skwisgaar's hand was still resting, incriminatingly, on Toki, and Toki's face had gone from pink to steamed lobster in color.

"Uh… hi's." Skwisgaar slowly removed his hand, but somehow that made things a thousand times more uncomfortable.

"So… uh… this is… happening now… huh?"

" Uh… ja," Skwisgaar muttered.

"Well, that's, uh… hmmm… yeah," Nathan turned and lumbered away.

"We, uh… shoulds…"

"Da, Toki," Skwisgaar assented.

Safely in the Swede's room, getting back to where they'd left off was a bit awkward. Everything had seemed to come naturally on the couch, and with Nathan's interruption, it was like being walked in on by a parent.

"Skwisgaar?"

"Ja, Toki?"

It was Toki's turn to surprise Skwisgaar. The blond didn't respond at first when Toki's lips pressed against his. Normally, the kisses Toki had given in the past were quick pecks. This kiss involved the Norwegian's whole body. When Skwisgaar felt Toki's erection pressing against him, self-control took a backseat to becoming naked and getting Toki naked as fast as possible. Toki was thinking the exact same thing, but when he yanked up on his shirt, he yelped in pain and returned his arms to his sides.

"What's ams de matter?" Skwisgaar asked impatiently.

"My backs is still hurting a littles."

"You just lies on de bed then," Skwisgaar carefully removed Toki's shirt and then his own while Toki did as he was told. Skwisgaar climbed in bed and loomed over the top of Toki. Thoughts of the last time the two were in bed together washed over both of them at the same time and Toki smiled softly, closing his eyes and chuckling.

"What's ams so funnies?" Skwisgaar kissed Toki's neck between words.

"I ams rememsbering de last times dis happened. Tings was so weirds, Skiwsgaar."

"I ams was a real toe, Toki."

"Yeah, you was. But I'ms overs it. Especiallies now dat I gots you, like dis. When you loves somebody, you justs forsgives dem for actings stupid."

Skwisgaar gazed down at Toki, his expression one of serene happiness. The man below him was more amazing that the blond could have ever imagined upon meeting him in Lillehammer all those years ago. When the guitarist had been spotted by the lanky Swede, he was an emaciated mess, playing for change on the cold, deserted street. Skwisgaar had broken away from the rest of the band, who'd gone into some touristy shop and turned down a side street to look for a bar. Toki was sitting outside, plucking at his guitar in no serious way. The guitar, like the young man, was fairly rough looking. And horribly out of tune. The young man didn't raise his head as Skwisgaar walked past and into the bar. He didn't stay long; the bar was crowded, noisy and too full of cigarette smoke for his liking.

When he stepped back onto the street, the brunet was still there, seemingly trying to tune his guitar, but failing horribly.

"You ams… pretties awful, ah?"

"Whats?" the boy looked up at him.

"Yous tuning. They ams all wrong. Cans you even plays?"

"Sures I can! My strings ams just olds and goings to break! Dat's all."

"Pfffft. Well, den play somethings."

The young man retaliated by launching into a Dethklok song and surprising Skwisgaar with his speed and near accuracy. The Swede briefly wondered if this boy knew who he was.

"Dat ain'ts half bad."

"Wowee! Reallies?" the young man's broad smile indicated just how long it had been since anyone had said a kind thing to him.

Technically speaking, his playing wasn't bad. It was much better than any of the guitarists the others had paraded before him the past few months. With Magnus gone, Skwisgaar had easily secured the position of lead guitarist, and this kid… he was slight, and kind of a pussy. This boy, Skwisgaar could mold into whatever he wanted him to be. He had the raw talent that Skwisgaar would keep a close eye on and if it ever got out of hand…

"You evers beens in a band, kid?"

"Toki."

"Huh?"

"My names is Toki. Toki Wartooth."

"Dat wasn't's what I was askings you, was its?"

"No, I's never been in a bands."

"How dids you learns to play?" Skwisgaar retrieved a menthol cigarette from his pocket and lit up as Toki answered.

"Just taughts myself."

"Toki, does you know who I ams?"

"No. You never dids tell me yous name. Kinds of rude, since I tolds you mine."

Perfect. This kid was clueless, and experience-less.

"You wants to bes in a bands, little Toki?"

"I amst so little!" Toki shot up to full height, but was still several inches shorter, proving Skwisgaar's point.

"Does you knows Dethkloks?"

"Dat was the song was what's I was playing!"

"You wants to be in Dethklok, little Toki?" Skwisgaar sneered; even if the kid turned him down, that would make him the dumbest mother fucker in the world. And the kid didn't look quite that stupid.

"Whats? Dethsklok!?"

"Ja. Dethklok."

"For realies!"

"Ja. Comes on, we goes to meet de odders."

Toki threw his arms around Skwisgaar's waist.

"Thanks you!"

Skwisgaar was shocked and didn't immediately shove the boy away. When Toki nuzzled against his chest and Skwisgaar awkwardly patted his head.

"Dat's… nice, Toki. You cans let go of mes now."

"What ams you thinking so hards about?" Toki rudely broke into Skwisgaar's thoughts.

"Just hows, maybe, I don'ts deserves you," Skwisgaar kissed him again.

"Nej, you does."

"Reallies?"

"Ja, even dumb dildos needs love toos," Toki smirked cheekily as Skwisgaar stuck his tongue out playfully.

"Pffft. Dumb dildos." Skwisgaar traced a thumb over the hidden cheekbone of Toki's face and smiled warmly. "I loves you, Toki. I really does."

Toki had no time to respond because immediately two soft, full lips had captured his, an insistent tongue nudging his mouth open. He gladly acquiesced. Skwisgaar used the hand that was not holding him up to skillfully unbutton Toki's pants while Toki did the same to him. After some awkward repositioning and a hilarious game of tug-of-war with a pant leg and a heel, both guitarists were naked and touching any body part within reach of each other. Kissing was a little more difficult now, with the panting and gasping at every touch, every trace of a finger across previously untouched skin, every bite and lick. Toki felt like he was going to explode from the intense anticipation of what he assumed to be sex. He had no idea what to expect, really, he'd only been with a man once, and he'd been on top, so it was a lot like screwing a lady. He figured that Skwisgaar would never let him top, so he supposed that tonight he'd find out what it was like to be the lady in this equation.

"You ams't been with a mans, Toki?"

"Once," Toki admitted, never having spoken of it to anyone. It had been in his pre-Klok days.

"Does you knows how all dis works?"

"Kinds of… likes, de ass fuckings? I knows dat much."

"You nevers had dat done tos you, right?"

"Nej. I'ms willsing to tries it."

"Dat woulds take forevers! I can'ts wait much longers, little Toki," Skwisgaar reached for some lube.

"What ams we gonna does, den?" Toki's eyes grew large as dinner plates when he saw the Swede lube up his fingers and reach around to slip them into his own ass.

"Ohhhh, ja," Skwisgaar murmured, a dreamy look creeping over him. As he was preparing himself, he took his other lubed up hand and began stroking Toki. Not a great idea, considering that watching Skwisgaar getting himself ready for Toki to fuck him was unbearably arousing.

"Ugn… Skwis… you shouldn'ts… ohhh," Toki threw his head back. Adding a third finger, Skwisgaar momentarily stopped jerking Toki off and concentrated on stretching his fingers as wide as possible, before he straddled Toki's lap.

"I'ms a lot more gooders at dis den you ams, Toki," Skwisagaar explained, sliding his fingers out of himself. Toki shot him a look. "Don'ts worry, you'll be as goods as me at dis pretties soon," he smiled darkly, his appetite blatant as he stared at the younger man below him. Skwisgaar didn't frequently have sex with male groupies, but he was no stranger to every method of pleasuring himself, involving others nor not. He'd teach Toki in time, but right now, Toki's thick length sliding inside him was the only thing he wanted to concern himself with. He shuddered as Toki's thighs touched his. "Ohhh, ja, Toki," he threw his head back as he began to ride the rhythm guitarist, his golden hair mimicking a halo momentarily.

Toki cried out, the sensation almost completely alien. The sex with that one guy that one time was nothing like this. It was quick, and terrible. Sex with lady groupies was more pleasant than that, but this… the tightness, the fact that it was Skwisgaar Skwisgelf raising and lowering himself on Toki's cock, riding him, was overwhelming to say the least. Toki was vaguely aware of Skwisgaar's fingers, clawing at his chest and barely heard the other man rasp out, "Toki! Touches me!"

Oh, shit! Toki's fog of overwhelming pleasure was momentarily cleared away while he wrapped a hand around Skwisgaar's neglected, weeping erection and began to pump in time with the lead guitarist's rolling hips. Had he not been so practiced on guitar, Toki would have stopped in the intense sensations swallowing him up again.

Skwisgaar was a lot louder in bed than Toki would have guessed. As he hit peaks of pleasure and plateaued off, his sounds changed in pitch and volume. Soon, he had gone from gentle rasping to low mewling, to outright cries and pleas to a deity in which he didn't believe. After the final "oh gods!" and two more expert rolls of the hips, Skwisgaar came with a high pitched howl and splashed cum onto Toki's stomach. The blond's involuntary contractions sent Toki over the edge and he came seconds later with a lower growl. Skwisgaar rolled off of his bandmate and smiled smugly at him.

"Pretties great, ah?"

"You ams a sex gods, afters all," Toki quipped.

Skwisgaar said nothing. He was too exhausted to tackle the silent question about the standing of sexual fidelity in this relationship right now. Since Toki didn't bring it up directly, he assumed it was fine to let it go for another time. Instead, Skwisgaar Skwigelf did something that he hadn't done since he was a teenager. He edged close to Toki and snuggled against him.

"I hopes you didn'ts has plans. Because I ams't lettings you does dem," he kissed the corner of Toki's mouth.

"I'd cancels them if I hads this to do instead," he snaked an arm over Skwisgaar's midsection and pulled him closer. "Bys de way, I loves you, too."

Falling asleep that night was easier for both guitarists than it had ever been in their lives. There were no nightmares, and no waking in the darkness. Just quiet, peaceful slumber.


	8. What Pickles Wants

Abigail was in much worse shape than Toki. She had internal injuries besides the initial knife wound, which baffled to doctors in that she had survived it in the first place and she was severely dehydrated. From the fresh wounds of the rape, she'd begun to develop an infection, as well. She was in surgery for several hours and then returned to a comfortable hospital room in the medical wing. Pickles waited during the surgery, Nathan and Charles keeping him silent company. Each day, Pickles would visit her room, even though she never regained consciousness. Nathan, Murderface and Charles accompanied him on these visits, Murderface dropping out after a few days, Nathan after a week and a half, Charles came with him every day for two weeks and then only occasionally still came with the redhead. Pickles usually didn't go into her room; he just milled around the open door and looked in on her sleeping form, wishing that she'd open her eyes. Even if she woke up just to tell him to go away and stop being like a creepy stalker.

After three weeks, she finally woke up one day, while Pickles was pulling back the curtains of the room to let some sunlight in.

"Pickles?" she squinted, bringing a hand up to shield her eyes from the shafts of sunlight.

"Hey," he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He must seem pretty weird, hanging around in her room when she was sleeping. "Sahrry, I was just," he feebly gestured behind him.

"How long was I out?"

"Aboot three weeks."

"Wow."

"Yeh. De odders've been down to see ya a couple taimes."

"I see you've been down more than a few," she nodded to the flowers by her bedside.

"Oh, heh. Dose were from alla us."

"And they're stayed fresh for three weeks? Also, know how else I know you're lying?"

"How?"

"You just asked me how I knew," she smiled at her own cleverness. Pickles chuckled nervously.

"We were kinda worried, ya know?"

"I'm glad that you all were worried about me. It actually means a lot."

"Na'ten prahbably wants ta see ya, if ya want me to tell 'm yer awake," Pickles edged nervously towards the door.

"Actually, could you not? Pickles, I know that I was responsible for what happened between you two and I want you to know that I'm not interested in Nathan. I never was. Still, I should have simply told him instead of letting things get so uncomfortable for everyone."

"It's naht yer fault. Both of us were pretty stupid, ya know? Someone like you wouldn't be interested in a coupla spoiled, kinda stupid rock stars, anyhow."

"What makes you say that?"

"It's why I liked ya in da first place, ya know? Ya were one of tha first people to naht be intimidated by us. Ya made us werk hard and do what we needed to. Yer kinda like…"

"Like Charles?"

Pickles twisted a dreadlock around his finger. Abigail chuckled, even though it hurt a little.

"Well, yeah, but… it'll sound ghey."

"Well, it's sounding like you have a crush on your band manager, so either way," her smile indicated she was gently ribbing him.

"I was gahnna say, yer like Charlie, but… beautiful." Pickles cheeks flushed with color.

"So, when we were down in the sub…"

"Ai didn't wanna just get in yer pants. I mean, yeh, I was sexully frustrated, but, I kinda… like ya. Like dat. But I know dat ya don't."

"And yet, you've been down here with some frequency since I've been here."

"I… It's just…"

"Pickles, remember when I said that I didn't get involved with people I worked with?"

"Yeh."

"I thought you were sweet. You even dressed up in that awful suit to try and impress me. Out of everyone in the band, you treated me the most like a person. The others… ugh."

"I'm jest kinda curious… ya don't need ta tell me if ya don't wanna, but Toki 'n Skwisgair… what happened wit them? Cause, since Toki gaht back, dey've…"

"So Skwisgaar finally realized that he's damn lucky to have the love of someone like Toki, huh?"

"Heh. Dey've barely been outta blondie's room." Abigail smiled fondly, glad for Toki.

"Skwisgaar did his usual smarmy lothario act, and Toki was just awkward in a cute teenage boy sort of way. Neither really seemed too interested, though. Once I told them to get lost, nicely, they both shrugged and left. I thought it was odd for Skwisgaar, but I guess not many women have turned him down and he was just too shocked to deal with it." Pickles laughed, for the first time above a throaty chuckle.

"And dat suit was de only one I had wit me. Don't know why I had dat one… I woulda worn onea my blahck suits. I look a laht better in dose."

"I'm sure."

"I guess I'm glad ya at least got a chuckle outta dat. I guess, since yer up, I prahbably better let ya git some rest."

"Pickles…"

"Yeh, Abby?" Pickles was taking a tremendous risk, using a nickname. It wasn't as if they were close and he'd probably sound like a weirdo.

"For what it's worth, if things had been different… I probably could have liked you."

Pickles smiled sadly. "And ya can't now?"

"Pickles, things happened back there. Things that I want to forget, but I know I probably never will. I don't know that I'll be able to trust anyone for a long time. It's not fair to say something like I just did, when I know that about myself. I'm sorry," Abigail looked troubled. Pickles sat on the side of her bed, mostly because there wasn't a chair in her room. Why wasn't there a chair in here?

"Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Sure."

"What if I wanted ta wait?"

"That's not fair to you, Pickles. What if I can never trust someone again?"

"Meybe I can't be tha kinda man ya want er need, but I wanna do what I can ta help ya. Even if ya don't like me like dat. Nobody should haveta live feelin' like dey can't trust er care aboot anybody."

Pickles thought about some bad Lifetime movies he'd watched about rape victims. The littlest things could trigger memories of their experiences, and it was, indeed, very hard to let anyone close, physically or otherwise.

"That's too much to ask of you. It's not your responsibility."

"It ain't because I wanna date ya, if ya don't want. And I know dat I can't pahssibly understand what ya went trough. It's because… when I was fifteen, I left home. And no one cared. My mahm, my own mother, just grunted. Didn't even look up from her crassword. I left. I spent da next eight years ina band, but we were just bandmates. I had no friends. I had no family. I felt so alone all da time. It's prahbably why I drank and did so many drugs. Becausea my family, I guess, I never told anybody dat I cared aboot 'em. Until Dethklok. I mean, at first, we were just bandmates, like Snakes N Barrels. But, Toki, dat gahddamn Norwegian kid, he… he made me feel like someone cared aboot me," Pickles sniffled, the magnitude of Toki's return resurfacing. "And alla us. Toki made – makes us a family. And I cahnt' tell you, Abby," he thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile when he said it that time, "I cahn't imagin' goin' bahck. And I don't want you ta feel like I felt. At least naht for very lang. I wanna be dere for ya because I don't want ya to spend yer life just remembering … thet."

Abigail smiled. "Thank you for sharing that with me Pickles. The media makes you seem like an idiot who only drinks and does drugs. I don't know why you don't let them see how insightful, smart, you are."

"Heh. It ain't very brootal. Ya know, bein' all insightful and sensitive."

"You're a good man, Pickles. Your family should be sorry that they lost you."

"Doubt dey are. Seth's so damn perfect dat dey barely remember I exist. Unless dey want ta compare Seth ta someone who's worse'n him."

"Like you said. You have Dethklok now."

"Listen, I gaht a band meetin'," Pickles stood and began toward the door. "Would it be okay… if I came down ta see ya later? I mean, if ya don't mind…"

"I'd like that."

"Okee. Try ta rest."

"I've been asleep three weeks, I'm pretty well rested."

"Heh. Well, later."

"Bye, Pickles."

There was no band meeting. But it was nice to know that Abby wanted Pickles to come visit her again. Things had been better since Toki had been home, but it seemed that life was finally beginning to settle into a quiet happiness for Pickles. Maybe, for once, he wouldn't head straight for the liquor cabinet before bed.


End file.
